In the Time it Takes for a Kiss
by sunspotmisery
Summary: Classic Tale of a Romy.
1. Skedaddle

A.N. I don't own the Xmen or anything, person, place, I use while creating a story I hope someone will enjoy. If someone's read my other story Hard Enough Life? which is a Hana Yori Dango, I do plan to continue I just have gotten so crunched with school… I'm trying to graduate this semester. Sorry… only reason I'm posting this is because I already typed it before I was bogged down. Please read and review… I know this is just setting up her past not much yet but as I stated before I plan to continue these stories.

**In The Time It Takes For A Kiss**

Chapter 1: Skedaddle

The brilliant color kissed sky let the young 13 year old Anna-Marie know that she had been sitting on the roof of her garage for several hours now. She was attempting to get answers out of a very silent God. Her hands were palm up in her lap as if covered in a foul substance that was absolutely repulsive to her. The truth however was that her skin had earlier that day taken on a new deadly presence. She had hurt her best friend Cody Robbins, and had killed Mrs. Thorsen's yappy little dog named Jack. Her life had changed forever for the worst.

"Everyth'n was so normal…" Marie groaned as she tore her eyes from her hands to look once again at the darkening sky. "Why God?... Why me?"

Just like the hours before no answer was heard, just the distant sounds of birds settling in for the night.

_Flash Back_

Cody had been holding Marie's hand as they walked Jack down by the mighty Mississippi river. Caldecott County was a very peaceful place to live but not much in the way of excitement for two young teens so they made traditions out of the weekends and 'Jack walking' was one of them. Mrs. Thorsen had trouble getting around as much as she use to and was delighted to let the teenagers take him off her hands for a few hours every Saturday.

Today however Jack had just ran off from the young teens caught up in the hot pursuit of some young armadillo.

"Jack! Jack yah git back here, ya hear mah! Jack!" Cody and Marie sprinted off in trail of the little pup. Jack finally gave up his quest and ran back to them. He pounced up into the waiting arms of the carefree girl.

"Ah swear, yah give mah so much trouble for a fluff-ball." She giggled as she buried her face into his fur. Cody chuckled at her for Marie could never stay mad at something so cute.

Before either one knew what was happening Jack was convulsing and drew stiff in Marie's hands. Marie was screaming and Cody snatched Jack from her.

"Holy-shit, Marie, I think he's dead."

"Omagod, omagod… Cody what happened!" Marie was in hysterics by now. Her tears were blurring her vision of Cody and Jack.

"Looked like some sort of seizure. Come on, we need to get some help." Cody carrying Jack turned up the road towards his own home.

Mrs. Robbins was in the yard as she sees her son and Marie running up the drive. Cody was cradling a brown bundle in his arms with a look of fear on his face.

"Cody! What's wrong honey?"

"Jack, he died. What do we do mama? He just shook in Marie's arms and died."

"Wait here I'll call Mrs. Thorsen." With that she disappeared into the house.

"It's ok Marie."

"How can it possible be ok, when Jack just died?" She sobbed.

"These things happen." Cody laid the pup down on the porch and turned to the crying girl. "Shh… his number just came up early that's all."

Nodding slowly but still tearing up Marie tried to agree with him.

"Ain't fair." She mumbled.

"That's true, but it's just how it goes sometimes." Pulling her into his arms Cody tried once again to calm Marie. He could feel her shaking from unheard sobs.

"Girl don't fret none. Jack was a good dog so he had noth'n to fear in the end." Marie didn't respond verbally, because her throat was choked up but she managed to nod and Cody could feel the movement. Cody pulled her back a bit and without a second thought placed a kiss on her forehead.

There was a warm sensation that spread throughout Marie. She could feel a pull and an instant connection to Cody. At that moment, with such a little gesture of comfort, they became as one. His thoughts became hers, his feelings coursed through her. She could feel his strength, his fears, his love, his power. Everything that was Cody was now Marie's. He stiffened in the embrace and Marie's first knowledge of her surroundings came from Cody's mother who had just started screaming.

Marie pulled back and Cody Robbins fell to the ground next to Jack. He was pale and twitching in the same manner Jack had. Reality had slipped away. Marie couldn't stop starring at the sight before her. Horror filled her as she took it all in. Even as time seemed to stop Mrs. Robbins did not, she grabbed her broom and came at the girl.

"Devil Child! Git!... Mah baby, ya killed mah baby boy!" Mrs. Robbins landed some sound blows on Marie while cussing her into damnation.

Marie had turned from the porch and began blindly running as natural flight instincts took over her body. Her mind was still so numb. There were pictures of Cody's childhood flashing through her mind. She remembered going out for most of the school's sporting events. There was also marshal arts classes and even a memory of breaking the green vase on the mantel above the Robbins' fireplace when she wrestled with her brother last week. But those weren't her memories they were Cody's playing in her head as real as if she had lived them herself.

She had run till the sounds, voices, and images stopped plaguing her. By the time her wits returned she stood at the banks of the Mississippi. Its beauty held none of its normal joy for the girl. Eventually she made her way home knowing that the events of the day could not be wished away. Police lights could be seen blocks off and Marie knew her life had changed forever in a moment; in the time it takes for a kiss.

_End Flashback_

Here she was sitting on the roof of the garage. She had out waited the sheriff. He had talked to Mathew, Marie's foster father, about the incident report. She knows that this is no longer her home.

The sun sets as Marie slips off the roof and into her bedroom. Gathering her backpack and a duffle she quickly slips in clothes, money, and some knickknacks she might need on the road. She discreetly slithers down the hall a bit to the closet and snatches Mathew's trench coat and a few gloves off the shelf. She manages to sneak back to her room unseen by Mathew and now Irene who had just returned home and was being briefed by Mathew in the living room. Her foster parents didn't know she was in the house and soon she wouldn't be. Flinging on her bags she heads to the window with a silent prayer to that ever silent God she slips back out into the night.

Marie knew everyone would expect her to travel east. She had been toying with the idea of traveling that way for years. That's why west river was the direction her feet headed.

Truck stop after truck stop she began to learn the ways of the loner. She was finding her rhythm in whom and how to approach people for rides. Marie was well on her way to becoming a little beggar girl. A rogue's life was appealing for a runaway; someone who was dishonest, but nevertheless likable. She'd tell nice tales about needing to find her family in California or how she had been conned out of her money and had no way home. Her stories were always things that people who were susceptible to and would take pity on her for. A rogue was what she had really become. She made the transition from her old life to this new one in a rather smooth way. Perhaps it was a bit too smooth but every night she had said a prayer for Mathew and Irene Adler while looking at Mathew's driver's license. His wallet had been inside his trench coat and she kept it close for comfort during the first few weeks of running. But in Phoenix Arizona she pitched it in a bathroom garbage can effectively letting go. Being caught with his license would be a direct link back to the place she could no longer call home, a risk she couldn't afford. So she kept his wore out brown leather wallet as her own now with nothing inside that would tell tales to a stranger. She was no longer Anna-Marie at that point she was now Rogue and she effectively knew what it means to say Phoenix Arizona. Out of the ashes came a new.


	2. First Encounters

A.N I don't own anything. But do recommend the sights I use they are fun!

From requests I redid this chapter. Enjoy hope it's easier reading now.

* * *

Chapter 2: First Encounters

Three years had passed quickly since Rogue's powers had first manifested. She was now sixteen and fully into the swing of her new life. Her days were filled with living-in-the-moment situations, such as where her next ride was coming from, or her next meal. Sometimes Rogue was forced to hoof it. More often than not, she went hungry; making her desperate enough to hunt down scraps that other people leave behind, even looking at trash baskets near fast-food stands. She was even known to sneak into hotels in the morning and grab as much continental breakfast as she could without being caught.

Rogue's nomadic ways moved her slowly up the west coast and eventually curving around to the upper Midwest. Presently she was bumming a ride on the back of a v-twin magazine Slammer riding the open prairie lands of South Dakota. The Ironhorse, belonging to a burly man named Red Bob. Red Bob was a man who made the pilgrimage out to the Sioux Empire nearly yearly. The road was crowded with bikers everywhere. Chrome and leather filled both lanes of the highway I90. Rogue was eagerly witnessing the phenomenon called the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally. Her trench coat was billowing out into the wind, and her well-gloved hands were clamped securely on her current Good Samaritan.

Pulling into Sturgis was beyond amazing. The bikes, the people, the mere attitude exhibited was enough to knock the breath from Rogue's lungs. The bikes not only lined Main Street but were packed in throes down the center of it; small town parking style.

"Wow, this is some sight." She grinned, "If you're into bikes, leather, and babes."

Red Bob chuckled at her display of awe, recalling his own first time. "Well, this is the end of the line for me," he said slightly reluctant to part with such sweet company.

"Oh thanks." She chirped.

"Hey, if you're determined to get to Canada, I know a guy who heads back up after the rally."

"Yeah?"

"Sure, I'll introduce you if you'd like just show up at one o'clock at One Eyed Jacks Saloon."

"Ah'll be there fer sure."

Red Bob smiled down on the brunette. She had been a pleasure to have as company as far as hitchhikers go. "You're accent came back thick just now."

Rogue sheepishly ran her hand through her hair. "Yeah, it does that every now and then. It's been fading out the last few years now, but pops back up now and then to let me know where ah come from. Not that I'd ever forget."

"You can take the girl outta the South but not the South outta the girl, huh?"

"Ah guess, sugah." She threw it on extra thick for fun.

Smiling cheerfully Red Bob shook his fiery mane to keep the chuckle in his throat at bay. "Well I'll see you at One Eyed Jacks Saloon in about four hours then."

"Ok, see ya later, thanks again for the ride."

Rogue wandered around Sturgis, marveling at the enormity of the crowd. Not to mention the seemingly endless sea of skin, leather and tattoos. Rogue couldn't help but think how avant-garde some of their styles ended up. However everyone seemed perfectly comfortable in their skin. Well everyone but the Rogue herself that is.

Eventually the weight of her bags, plus the bulk of her clothes were slowing her down. The day was so incredibly hot to begin with that Rogue feared she'd get heat stroke at this pace. The sun wasn't even directly overhead yet, and she knew it would only get worse as the day stretched on.

Rogue searched out a bathroom and after waiting in a line that seemed endless; to which she was most grateful she didn't have to actually go, she was able to find solitude in a locked bathroom stall. She felt relieved to be able to shed some of the bulk wrapped around her body. This was only something she could do when there was no one else around. The fear was deeply ingrained within her. There had been other minor accidents since she had left Mississippi three years ago. The voices, the memories, the skills, and the absolute horror was more than she could bear.

Sweat ran in small streams down the back of her neck. Using toilet paper she dabbed herself dry. Mathew's coat hung on the stall door.

"I can't stand the thought of putting it back on." She grumbled. It was just too hot.

Rogue opted to put on a long sleeve shirt made of a shear material instead. "Lord, I thought it was suppose to get colder up North." She spoke out loud to no one in particular.

After changing, Rogue scooped her things back into her bags. As she exited the water closet, Rogue removed what little money she had from her backpack and slipped it into Mathew's old wallet.

"Ah, here we go, just what I need. A storage locker." It hadn't taken her long to spot it. From a practiced technique she jimmied the key free of the lock with a wire set she had created a year ago. Rogue stuffed the locker with her duffel and pack filling it completely when she added the old trench coat on top.

"Crap." She muttered under her breath as she heaved against the locker door. After a little effort she got it to close completely. To make sure it wouldn't reopen, she checked the security of the door. "Good." She whispered as she stood up slipping the key into her back pocket.

While wandering around, checking out the bikes, Rogue came across a few conversations about the Mutant Crisis. Everyone seemed to have his or her own opinion on the subject. She heard scatters of conversations, some more informed than others. Some people were bitter, and others sympathetic. She tried to blend into the background and desperately tried not to touch the abundant amount of exposed flesh. The last thing Rogue wanted was these conversations in her head not just in her ears.

"I tell you there is a vast migration of Mutants headed toward the border."

"Well that's easy enough to figure out. Canada claims to be a safe haven for their kind."

"Do you think it's true?"

"Who knows?"

Rogue weaved her way through the crowded Main Street, but the undertones were all alike in the end.

"What's your take on that Mutie deal?"

"Good riddance."

"Yeah!"

"Oh, come on. They're just people."

"Deadly people."

"All people are deadly."

"Not like this, they ain't."

"Yep."

"Heck yeah that's what I'm talk'n."

Unable to take it, Rogue eventually darted away. She was tired of this type of talk. She had experienced it everywhere people gather for the last few years. Mostly it had been belligerent, but even pity got on her nerves, eventually. That's why she knew her best bet would be Canada. With the gossip and rumors of a 'Safe Haven' Rogue knew this was her only chance at a normal life.

"Canada has to be safe. Has to be." She told herself.

Time eventually moved forward enough that Rogue had to turn back towards the One Eyed Jacks Saloon and her meeting with Red Bob's friend. Despite the infamous news topic, Rogue found the vendors, and bike tricks pretty distracting enough that the four hours went by pretty fast.

As Rogue entered the One Eyed Jacks Saloon, she became instantly jarred by a tall auburn haired male exiting the establishment. Rogue had started to fall backward only to have his hands catch her about the waist abruptly bring her descent to an immediate stop. He looked to be about eighteen or nineteen years of age and cute as the dickens.

Quickly regaining herself, she shoved his hands away in near panic.

"Sorry Chere."

"Whatever, sugah." Waving him off in a desperate attempt to calm down. '_How could I be so clumsy?_' she thought. Their skin hadn't touched thanks to her clothes and his biker gloves but she was still skittish at contact in general. Before the boy could say anymore Rogue slipped by him.

A charming lopsided grin graced the young man's face as he watched the Southern Bell weave a path through the crowed room. He was hard pressed not to be spell bound as he shook his moppy hair and explained away his sudden fascination. "Just she can move like liquid, keeping her distance in dis traffic be all." He told himself, not really believing it. But never the less the young emerald-eyed beauty disappeared among the throes of bikers and Wild West decor.

Avoiding the mingling crowd Rogue quickly spotted Red Bob. He really looked like he could relax in this Wild West background. He's a hard man to miss however even in this packed space. His bushy fire red mane, and beard gave him his nickname. His stature gave him the air of a biker which luck would have it was exactly what he was. And across from him sat a very cantankerous looking man. His dark wild hair and build was enough to tell any lesser man to back off.

"Ah, here she is."

"Humph!" mutter the gruff Canadian. He hardly glanced in her direction.

"Hello."

"I leave right away after the rally, kid. And I won't wait if you're late."

"I understand."

"I go as far as Winnipeg. Then I turn to the countryside. Your best bet is to jump rides in Winnipeg, got it?"

Rogue nodded. "Ah'm, Rogue by the way."

He replied at first with an incoherent noise followed by a muttered "Whatever, kid."

"And you are?" she prompted.

"James. James Howlett."

Rogue glanced at the dog tag dangling on James' neck when the two men stood to take their leave of her.

"Wolverine." She muttered to herself.


	3. Thieves?

Chapter 3: Thieves?

Things were looking up for Rogue with her next ride established. James seemed like a decent enough man even if he did have a slight attitude problem. Rogue wasn't deterred by his gruff exterior she was positive she found a good soul. Reading people was becoming an art form to her. She had made mistakes before that ended with her assaulter downed by her powers. The plus side to her mutation no man with a wicked mind could full fill his fantasy before having the life drained out of him.

Still sweltering out in the heat she kept to the shade of a tree starting to feel the hunger in her stomach take a demanding presence. She looked about and decided to check how much money she had left in order to ration it accordingly. However to her horror her hand came up empty.

"Mathew's wallet!" she gasped.

It was gone along with the key to the storage locker containing her worldly possessions. She tried to think if she could have dropped it somewhere today. But alas she hadn't taken either one from her pocket since she placed them in there in the bathroom. She probed her pocket in earnest examination there was no hole at all and deep enough that it was unlikely they had fallen out by themselves. In conclusion she had to admit someone had picked her pocket in this crowd without her knowledge. Straight away she turned towards the lockers. As she rounded the corner she saw that in deed the locker containing her things was opened and cleaned out. Gone... all gone. She didn't really care about the clothes and piddly things but Mathew's trench coat and his wallet were her prize possessions. She felt the tears coming and she couldn't understand how this could have happened.

With no choice she headed for the RV lot that had Mr. Howlett's Winnebago. She passed out in the shade waiting for his return.

"Most likely out ridding his bike. Be'n the whole point of this here rally and all." She mused before letting the heat drag her in to sleep away from the biting hunger of her belly.

Meanwhile across town there was a red-eyed thief who was sitting in his hotel pondering about the days intake.

He didn't know why he had taken the girl's wallet and then raided the locker. He could pass it off as habit but he had an inkling it had been more about the curiosity of such a mysterious young lady. A shining southern gem all the way up here in the middle of no where. She just didn't strike the Cajun as that much of a bike enthusiast to haul cookies all the way up north for a rally. Her clothes didn't reveal much information to him just that she seemed to pack with the care of a runaway. Her wallet held a small amount not enough for an extended trip unless she replenished it as she went. His mind wandered on that category for a moment thinking of the hows a rogue like her would earn money.

Shaking his head sharply he stood up to pace. "Nah Remy, non of t'at."

But the second after he said it his mind wandered back to her waist in his grip. Short lived as that moment had been he let it loop around in his head a few more times before shaking his moppy haired head once again.

"Homme, it be seriously time for a night of fun."

It was near dawn when Rogue awoke from what she had every intention of making a nap. As she stared up at the branches of the tree weaving elegantly in the wind next to James' Winnebago she realized something was different. She shifted on to her side and her cheek pressed into her duffel bag. Startled fully awake now Rogue sat up straight and looked around. Not a soul was stirring nearby. She glanced once again down at the bag. Sure enough there it was. Some creepy stranger had stolen it then taken the time to find her and tuck it under her head like a pillow.

"Oh mah Gahd..." Someone could've touched her. They hadn't, for Rogue would know right away if they had done so but still to come so close to such a calamity and walk off with no damage done was a real blessing.

Giving one last good look around she opened the bag to reveal her clothes and wallet. But the trench coat was still gone. Inside the wallet she found a lot more then she had started with.

"Who in th' world steals from yah, only to give back what they don't want, and pay for what they do? If that be the norm around these parts it's awful strange."

Just the she heard motorcycles come up the bend fast. She could make out Red Bob, and James but the others she didn't know. Almost like it had been choreographed Red Bob and his crew each spun a cookie heading out the same direction as they just entered all but James. James was already dismounting his bike when Rogue gathered her stuff.

"Come on kid we're outta here!"

James was on edge. Everything about his body language screamed danger.

"Waz go'n on?"

"No time, just hop in if your going." he growled. Strapping down his bike in the back trailer was his only occupation before booking it. Rogue threw her bag in the back and hopped in the passenger seat. Buckled and ready as James came around the other side. She didn't ask why they were taking off so soon again but there was something she really wanted to know before to much time elapsed.

"So... yah got anytha'g to eat?"

James looked over at her and attempted to banish the smile from his face.

"Glove compartment's got jerky."


End file.
